


The Night of the Hunter

by superior_olive



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Demon!Hanzo, Hunter!McCree, Implied Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison/Reaper | Gabriel Reyes - Freeform, M/M, additional relationships to a smaller extent, and many shenanigans, as slowburn as i can manage tbh, genji shimada / angela ziegler, hunter culture is based off the witcher series, it's rated m so things might get a bit spicy, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-20 04:42:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12425247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superior_olive/pseuds/superior_olive
Summary: Jesse McCree was a simple hunter. Get a contract, fulfill it, get paid. It was hard, dirty work, but the lines of what was right and what was wrong were always clear. After traveling to the kingdom of Alderbrunns, he thought he could retire on the lucrative payment for dealing with some mad scientists abominations. Yet a job from a mysterious archer from the East would make his life anything but simple.Takes place after the events of Junkensteins Revenge, where Hanzo is needing help from a demon hunter who doesn't know he's a demon yet.





	The Night of the Hunter

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So guess I'm hopping onto the boat of demon!hanzo and hunter!mccree but im hoping to do something somewhat original. I edit everything on my own so all mistakes are mine!

It never seemed to end. Wave after wave of zombics came from all directions, each one eating another bullet after another, the tide of electronic monsters never ceasing.They weren’t the typical creatures that Jesse McCree was used to hunting, nothing like the werewolves, vampires, alghouls, or even the drowners he had been taught about, taught to kill.Yet nonetheless they were monsters and if he was good for one thing, monster slaying was it. The payment the king was offering didn’t hurt either, making the near suicidal mission all but too enticing. 

“How about ya pass over that flask?” Jesse was able to shout in between waves, wondering how many of these abominations Junkenstein had actually made. “Can’t help but work up an almighty thirst with this work.” He flashed the archer from the East a wink, the other man rolling his eyes though McCree swore he saw a ghost of a smile. 

“We drink when the job is done, gunslinger.” The archer hissed back, shooting an arrow into Junkenstein’s monster’s back, the thing roaring out in rage.

The beast was large and green, appearing to be a mosaic of creatures that McCree could only guess what they were originally at this point. He would almost feel bad for the fiend if it wasn’t trying to grind him into a bloody pulp.

Jesse glanced over his shoulder as a healing potion had been hurled at him, the older woman yelling at him to keep his head down. He knew he was in it for the money, but wasn’t quite sure about the motivations of the others. The alchemist and the older soldier seemed to have a background together, they worked in synch and only the appearances of new creatures ever cut their banter off. The soldier seemed to take a personal interest in the Reaper, calling out that he had him several times though the alchemist never had him out of her sights. She seemed to have them all covered somehow, that whenever a zombic managed to get past him, the sniper was quick to take it out. It was impressive, their performance at their age, but that still left the question of the archer.

The man looked closer to McCree’s age, though he dressed in a way that he could only imagine was uncomfortable in the brisk night air. He had claimed he was from the Far East when the alchemist had asked him from where he hailed, and had told Jesse that his home had cherry trees. His fighting style was based around a simple bow and arrow, though Jesse would admit he was an admirable shot. Sure, he’d say that firing wooden projectiles was only helpful when fighting vampires, but the archer hadn’t required that much help during the battle so he kept his mouth shut. McCree shook his head from his distracting thoughts when the witch came out, raising his gun up as he ran hastily up the stairs. 

“Then let’s finish it,” he smirked as he felt his trick eye begin to burn, shooting down a row of zombics while the others were able to take down the abomination. “You’re paying archer!”

He quickly went to reload his gun, a few more zombics rushing up at him, though a few quick arrows left them a pile of rubble. 

“Getting tired?” He could hear the cockiness in the archer’s voice, though he didn’t dare look. His eyes had to dart around the bridge as he continued to shoot. One, two, three, four, five, six, reload. Jesse kept the count in his head, remembering the voice of his mentor telling him to always keep count. That in the life of a hunter, not having a bullet ready could be the difference between life and death.

“Not a chance,” he drawled back with the same intensity, enjoying his own banter with the stranger. Bullets littered the ground as he kept up the pace, the army of zombics finally coming to an end. 

The witch frowned deeply, obviously disappointed with not being able to breach the gate to the castle. She turned to Dr. Junkenstein, giving him a small shrug. “Well it appears your monster has fallen, along with the Reaper and the Summoner….” she frowned before turning to get on her broom. “Suppose you should learn to beg for mercy. Perhaps the king has some.” She offered him a pat on the back before she flew away, Jesse breathing a sigh of relief with the soldier finishing off the remaining zombics. 

“That went better than expected,” he turned to the alchemist who was looking over the soldier’s wounds. “I’d even say it was too easy. Reckon they’ll be back?”

She went over to Junkenstein grabbing him harshly by the arm, the man squirming in her grip. “Undoubtedly. The Reaper will return, he has never truly died since he’s been working with the Witch.” She glared at Jameson, her brow furrowing. “We’ll take care of him. You should go collect your pay, hunter.” 

McCree was a bit taken off with how she was so curt and short with him, but shrugged it off. If they had a personal beef in the matter of Dr. Jameson Junkenstein, that was little to no concern of his. His pay from the king was of the utmost importance, however. 

“If ya got it handled, I think I’ll go see the king. How about you archer?” He turned to see him climbing up the stairs in the direction the witch went, cursing towards the sky in a language he was vaguely familiar with. 

“Damned witch! She got away.” He let out a frustrated yell as he threw his bow down, practically seething.

“Hey now, what matters is she left the kingdom, Aldersbrunn is saved or something.” Jesse followed him carefully, curious but not curious enough to get his head bit off. “You came all the way here for her specifically? Can’t help but think ya didn’t come here for the patriotism.”

The archer shot him a glare, though his gaze softened after a moment. “I...I needed something only a witch could get me. And now I have lost her.”

He gave McCree a thoughtful look that couldn’t help but send a small shiver down the hunter’s spine. During their night long skirmish he hadn’t much downtime to chat with the archer, never anything more than a few clever one liners. Somehow, he had failed to notice his dark eyes, how they were abnormally piercing and he couldn’t tear his eyes from them.There was a certain intensity to his gaze, something that Jesse couldn’t place his finger on but nevertheless found intriguing. 

“Wanna talk about it over that drink?” He offered, holstering his gun with a half smile. On a normal job he’d just want to get his payment and scram, yet there was something compelling with this stranger. He travelled a lot as a hunter, roaming the kingdom looking for monster bounties and quick jobs, anything to provide some income for his nomadic lifestyle. Yet he had never come across anyone like the archer, from his foreign face to alluring eyes. He figured a little talking would be harmless, as he found himself surprisingly not so ready to say goodbye. 

The archer narrowed his eyes at him, looking him up and down for a moment. “Perhaps.” He answered vaguely pulling out his flask. “Though I am unsure if you’ll find the flavor all that pleasurable. It is not like the drink here.”

Jesse motioned him to follow as they found a place along the wall to sit down, a bit away from the people returning outside to celebrate. He had the feeling the soldier and alchemist weren’t the type to take all the money and run, so Jesse wasn't in a terrible hurry to leave. “Well let’s see then, archer. Ya got a name, or is that asking too much?” He raised an eyebrow as the other man took a drink himself, scrunching up his nose in contemplation. 

“...Hanzo. That should be enough for now.” He said after a moment, offering him a drink while sitting next to him. “And yours gunslinger?”

“McCree. I’m a hunter, if ya couldn’t figure out by the emblem.” He gave his hat a slight tip as he took a sip, testing the flavor. “Hm, not bad there Hanzo. Whatcha call it?”

“Sake. It’s the last I have from my home.” He quickly took the flask back, strapping it to his belt. “So you’ll understand if I am not prone to sharing, hunter-McCree.”

“Alright, alright.” He rose his hands up defensively, nudging him playfully with his elbow. Hanzo laughed quietly, his eyes moving to look towards the moon. “Not to be nosy, but what brings ya all the way out here? Surely not all for the witch.” 

McCree prided himself with natural instincts, he always felt like he had a wariness that even his training and augmentations couldn’t top. Yet he could only be confused when the hairs on the back of his neck started to stand, that his legs ached for him to bolt when the archer turned to him. He coughed, figuring it was the odd alcohol he had, waiting patiently for an answer. 

Hanzo let out a quiet yawn, seemingly unaware of Jesse’s predicament. “You are a hunter correct? Of what?” He touched the dark ribbon in his hair idly, McCree noticing that his fingers were calloused but deft. 

McCree paused at his deflection, wondering what he could be hiding. The hunter was smarter than this, than to stick his nose into the business of dangerous strangers. He huffed, hating that he had always been a sucker for mysteries. “Monsters,” he answered carefully, his eyes not leaving Hanzo’s face. “Vampires, werewolves, hags….apparently zombics.”

The archer leaned closer, something about him caused Jesse to gravitate towards him, unable to swallow even though his throat felt dry. He couldn’t tear his gaze away, his hunter’s senses scolding for him to grab his gun. His hand was at his holster before Hanzo spoke. “What about demons?” His voice was low, gravely, damn near dangerous. “Ever catch one?”

“No,” McCree answered quickly, his hand grasping the handle tightly. “Never had the honor to kill one. Though in theory I know how.”

“Oh?” Hanzo narrowed his eyes again, almost as if he were glaring.

“Depends on it’s origin, but there’s usually some sort of banishing ritual. Also armor piercing rounds can hurt like hell on such a beast.” He took note of how Hanzo’s eyes widened at the statements, almost like he was impressed. Almost.

“Do you think the witch could summon one? A demon that had already been...banished from another land?” He leaned a bit away, the warmth of his breath absent from Jesse’s skin. He was almost disappointed with that.

“Depends, are ya asking me to track a demon for you, or the witch? Because either way it ain’t gonna be cheap.” He let go of his gun, moving to look back at the night sky. He gritted his teeth, knowing he didn’t need the job, that in many ways this trip was his retirement plan. But no other hunter he knew had actually dealt with a demon, and if the witch was actually into this summoning business he had an obligation to pair with his curiosity to look into the matter. He shuddered remembering how she was associated with the summoner, nearly a full dragon herself. It wouldn’t be too far fetched that she’d look into darker means to come attack the castle again.

“The witch,” Hanzo answered calmly, pushing some stray hairs out of his eyes. “And money would not be an issue, you would be fully compensated if you could help me find her.”

“Alright,” Jesse nodded, believing that finding her wouldn’t be too terribly difficult. She had a pattern of leaving destruction in her wake. “But if ya don’t mind me prying, what business do ya need from the witch with demons? Don’t tell me you’ve been dabbling?” He eyed him warily, though he only seemed amused.

“I do mind you prying,” he stated matter of factly, standing up with a small grunt. “My business with demons is not sinister if that is what you’re worried about, but all in all it is  _ my _ business. So will you take the job or not, hunter?” Hanzo narrowed his eyes at him, picking up his bow. 

McCree knew better, but he did not make it this far in his career by listening to the reasonable side of his mind. He nodded, moving to stand next to him. “I’ll take it,” he offered his hand for a handshake. 

Hanzo smiled at that, revealing his teeth, white and pointed. He did take note that they weren’t pointed enough to be a vampire’s. “We can discuss details in the morning. Until then, good night McCree.” He left his him hanging, turning his back to McCree. “I’ll meet you by the gate at first light.”

Jesse lowered his hand, wiping it on his pants a bit annoyed. “Yeah, I guess so.” 

Hanzo bowed his head as he left silently, leaving McCree only with his thoughts. He had stopped to speak with Hanzo to learn something and yet he was left with more questions than he had originally. He sighed, supposing that traveling with someone would be better than the long lonely nights he had grown accustomed too, plus the company was pretty. With a groan, he popped his back before starting his own path down the wall. He avoided the celebration below, finding his mind too troubled for such festivities. What he had believed to be his last job, the capstone of his career as a hunter, was about to be potentially toppled by a request from a man he still knew little to nothing about. Yet McCree wasn’t a fool, he knew if the man had gone all this way for the witch, demons were at play. 

Jesse couldn’t help but smile to himself, going over to collect his payment. He had been planning to get shit faced after such a stunning victory, but he prompted to go to bed early in the softest bed he could afford. After all, he had a game changing mission in the morning.

He was going demon hunting.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you guys are interested in more chapters, I promise I'll go finish my other fic...
> 
> If you need to contact me for any reason I'm on twitter @draconic_fly and tumblr @draconicfly


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